


Day-After Blues

by Broba



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 21:44:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broba/pseuds/Broba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another randomly assigned Kinkmeme prompt! Mrs. Lalonde has picked up a nice bit of slim for a night of sexy fun, but the morning after brings an unpleasant realisation, on several levels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day-After Blues

Mrs Lalonde woke to the bleary, half-formed sight of her newest paramour dancing about the room in his underwear. It had been quite a night, that was for sure, but she would have appreciated if the boy could settle down for once and be a little bit less young and virile until she had got herself together. Mrs Lalonde had a feminine awareness of her own appearance upon waking, and took a moment to smooth her hair into some sort of a shape and rearrange her negligee before she yawned cutely and stretched, her way of announcing that she was ready to let him know she was awake.  
  
Bro turned at the sound and grinned. He was dressed only in his tighty-whities and socks, and of course the ubiquitous shades. Mrs Lalonde had mentally resolved over the course of last night's acrobatics that if they were going to make this into a regular thing she was going to have to gently but firmly train him out of those ridiculous shades. He bobbed his head in greeting.  
“Morning,”  
“Good morning, Dirk.”  
The boy just grinned- and to her, he was very much a boy. “So yeah, last night was pretty much amazing. I'm not even messin' with you, I'm throwin' it out there like- yeah. Cool.”  
He was so transparent it was adorable. For all that he talked as though he was just rambling idly, Mrs Lalonde could tell that he had been practising that little speech.  
“Why Dirk,” he purred- and she had practised that purr- “I could be forgiven for thinking you're a little taken with me.”  
“I guess,” he shrugged, “you're pretty cool.”  
  
That was how he wanted to play it. Bro was a gorgeous boy and he knew it, his skin was like rough-hewn alabaster, his body was like something that had been hacked out of rock in a hurry by a crying old sculptor who hated himself for loving men so much. Mrs Lalonde knew the type well, the boys who were like perfect angels, the one-in-ten of them who were so blessed by genetics that they could live in something close to heaven until their metabolism turned thirty and punished them for it. She was also, acutely, suddenly, unpleasantly, aware that she was reaching the end of that period in her life when she could realistically join such boys in their heaven. Being brutally honest, she was looking back on that time with longing already. That was why Dirk was special to her. Oh, he was taken with her now until someone younger and cuter came along or, more likely, he abruptly decided he was actually gay. That would be adorable, let him look at boys from the vantage point of age and experience and feel what she was feeling. Yes, nothing more then justice. In a sudden flash of spiteful glee, she decided to twist the knife a little and remind him who was running things here.  
  
“Yes. I'm pretty cool. Anyway, I have a lot to be doing today, so...”  
Bro deflated noticeably. He was so adorable, he thought he was ice but he forgot that you can see right through ice.  
“Uh. I thought we might... you know?”  
“Do it again?” She rolled the words around thoughtfully, making him wait agonisingly for her to think about it, “fuck some more?”  
“Yeah.”  
“You want to?”  
He was practically nodding like a toy puppy, “yeah!”  
  
She leaned back, lifting the duvet from her body and spreading it invitingly. With a whoop he leapt onto the bed. He was already nuzzling and kissing at her belly before she had time to laugh. She wound her fingers through his hair fondly, and a little possessively. She didn't have to be grown-up when he was with her. She didn't have to pretend, or seduce. This boy wanted her fully and guilelessly, he desired her for what she was and not the image she let him see, and a little part of her loved him for it. She was so taken in the moment and the delicious action of his lips over the material of her negligee that she missed when her phone hummed angrily the first time. Only on the second occasion did she realise there was something impinging on her attention. It would do him good, she decided, to know that she could withdraw her favours as quickly as advance them, and so she gently pushed him from her and reached out languidly to the night-stand for her phone, flipping it open to reveal that she had received a text.  
“Come on,” Dirk murmured, “forget that.”  
“We can't all be feckless students you know. Some of us have careers and must watch our phones.”  
“Heh, whatever,”  
He was trying the nuzzling trick again but the lady was not for turning, and pushed him away a little more firmly this time, frowning as she sat up straight and read the text message.  
  
HI MRS LALOND. NCE SEEIN YOU LST NGHT.  
  
She frowned and read it again. Then she checked the number and her eyes almost popped. The number belonged to the boy who had spent the night right there with her, Dirk. She flicked to the next message.  
  
SO YEAH. FUN TIMES.  
  
Now she was getting a little flustered. She casually slapped Dirk on the shoulder, eliciting a protest from him, and tapped out a response.  
  
 _Hello- Who is this?_  
  
HOW'D YOU LIKE THE CAR? PRETTY COOL HUH?  
  
 _Quite._  
  
TWO SEATER, REMEMBER?  
  
 _Yes._  
  
YEAH. WOULD YOU REMIND MY DUMBASS BRO OF THAT PLS.  
  
She rolled over and got Dirk's attention by snapping her fingers, before showing him the messages. It took him a moment to realise that she was serious and that sexy-times were on hold while this matter was dealt with. He read what he saw with a frown, and then made an expression of sudden realisation.  
“Oh shit yeah, my car is a two seater.”  
“Yes? And this means what exactly?”  
“So yeah, when I drove you home there kinda wasn't any room for my little brother. Guess I must have left my phone with him to call a taxi or some shit.”  
“I don't remember any brother...”  
“Heh. Well, you were kind of drunk you know. What were you even doing at a frat-house?”  
“Never you mind. So who is this brother of yours?”  
“Oh Dave? He's pretty cool,” that seemed to be the very outer limit of the plaudits that Dirk was capable of bestowing, “I guess I look after him, you know? Like, he's my little brother and my kid.”  
“Hold on, how old is he?”  
“Uh. Eleven? I guess? About that. Hey, how old are they when they are this tall?” Dirk held a palm out horizontally about four feet from the ground.  
“You left an eleven year old behind in a frat-house?”  
“Car is a two-seater, remember?” He said it as if that made it all make sense, “besides he's got my phone.”  
“Does he have any money?”  
“Uh. Well I hope so, pretty stupid to go out without any.”  
“Dirk! Jesus!”  
  
She tapped away at the phone hurriedly.  
  
 _Hello? Is this David?_  
  
YO.  
  
 _Where are you?_  
  
CHI-KAPPA-RHO.  
  
She swore under her breath. He was still at the frat-house? What kind of irresponsible idiot leaves a child alone in a house full of drunken, even more irresponsible, sophomores? She hit Dirk again just on principle and he made a complaining grunt. He rose up on all fours and started to kiss over her bare hip where the negligee rode up. His insistent nose pressed against her skin and urged the flimsy material up further. If he kept going, then he would end up setting up a base camp on her rump all the better to proceed onwards to areas rarely trod by the questing boots of men.  
  
 _Are you all right?_  
  
YEAH. IM COO. KINDA WONDERIN WHEN I GET TO GO HOME.  
  
She gasped and slapped Dirk across the shoulder harder- this was no time for the kind of thing that his questing tongue was suggesting they experiment with. Especially not before a morning shower, which just went to show how experienced he really was.  
“Dirk!”  
“Wha-a-at?”  
“You left your brother back there!”  
“Yeah so? He can handle himself! I told you, he's cool.”  
“That's not the point! You can't just leave a little boy to look after himself, you're responsible for him!”  
“Urgh. God. It's not like you're his mom.”  
  
That stung. She knew that she was entirely of an age to be the lad's mother, she had a daughter about that old herself. The fact didn't bear thinking about but there was no choice, she could not in good conscience enjoy the pleasures that were, even now, insistently nudging at her thigh knowing that some poor little boy was all alone somewhere as a result.  
“I insist you go and get him!”  
“Sure, sure. I will, but hey, before that how about we fuck?”  
“Dirk.”  
He looked up at her with a grin that seemed suddenly less dangerously louche and more unreliably arrogant.  
“Yeah?”  
“You can stay here with me as long as you like-”  
“Aww ye-”  
“If!”  
“Mm?”  
“If. You can tell me what my name is.”  
“What?”  
“What's my name, Dirk?”  
He looked at her. She looked back at him just as icily. It was a dirty trick to pull, but she had poured a heaping bucket of cold water all over the mood, quite deliberately.  
“Dirk. Go get your brother.”  
“Okay,” he got up, suddenly looking a little sheepish in his underwear, “okay. I'll, I'll meet you back here?”  
She sighed and waved at him, “sure.”  
“Okay!”  
Dirk started pulling on his ridiculously skinny jeans immediately, and as he ran for the door she yelled at his retreating back.  
“And, it's Roxy! Roxy!”  
  



End file.
